The first thing I heard was the thunder, gentle in the distance. A lazy, soft rain fell on the trees outside the open window, tapping and rustling the leaves. Slowly, I knew where I was, and smiled.

Saturday morning, in bed with Cubby.

When I opened my eyes, the light was flat and grey. It was early – 6am or so – and the storm was keeping things dark. Cubby was lying on his back staring out the window, and the cat was for once not destroying something, and was curled up tightly by our feet.

It was a nice way to wake up.

The rest of the morning was spent lying in bed smoking and watching the storm as it intensified. We talked, and did things that didn’t require talking. It was our first free weekend in months, and it was nice to enjoy it.

After leaving the bed sometime in the afternoon, Cubby and I grabbed a late lunch and decided to drive up a mountain, which was particularly hair-raising at night, and with Cubby’s desire to corner at 80km/hr. We survived, though, and we had fun. How sad is that?

Now I’m looking out the window at work, and there’s another storm. Only this one isn’t beautiful, and it certainly isn’t convenient. You see, I’ve finished work, but my car is several kilometres away. Oh well, I guess I stay put for now and listen to the thunder. Ride out the storm, so I can go home to my Cubby.